


leg day

by 19red



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: (and by art I mean Jonny's beefy thighs), Established Relationship, Inspired by Art, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19red/pseuds/19red
Summary: "You want a leg workout?"
Relationships: Patrick Kane/Jonathan Toews
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	leg day

**Author's Note:**

> Patrick's views on dogs are not reflective of my own. It's very important for me that y'all know that.
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> a Dog Person
> 
> (Also, I really hate having to come up with titles and when I say I hate it, I mean I HATE!! it)

“Oh my god,” Jonny coos.

It’s a nice lazy morning, both of them lounging in bed half-naked. Patrick might be still more asleep than not, so he falls for it like a fucking amateur.

“What?” he asks and is consequentially cursed to suffer through five consecutive videos of NHL players doing bodyweight squats while holding their dogs before the inevitable happens.

“See,” Jonny starts.

“No way.”

“That’s why we should get a puppy.”

Patrick pinches the bridge of his nose. “Zero fucking chance, dude.”

“It’d be a great addition to our leg day workout, look,” Jonny says, shoving the phone right at Patrick’s face. Patrick wrestles it out of his grip and chucks it at the foot of the bed, then since he’s still holding Jonny by the wrists, uses his hand to enumerate. Thumb: “Dogs are all slobbery and unsanitary.”

Pointer: “They leave their fucking fur everywhere.”

Middle: “They’re like, bottomless pits of need that smell like rotten lake water.”

Ring: “They have no respect of what’s holy so they bark your head off at six in the morning. Don’t fucking front, dude, you’d kill the thing in like two days.”

Pinky: “In conclusion: no, thank you.”

Jonny makes an affronted face. “I would not.”

Patrick rolls his eyes, lacing their fingers together. “You say that now but I can already imagine the PR nightmare.”

“Fuck you,” Jonny wields their joined hands and slaps Patrick’s chest.

“Yeah,” Patrick says. Then, struck by sudden genius, “Yeah. You want a leg workout?”

“I want a dog.”

“No,” he bites hard on his smirk, feeling his lips growing warm with the sting, knowing they’re turning pink and swollen. “You want a leg workout. I’ll be generous.”

“What?” Jonny’s brows knit in confusion even as his spellbound gaze trails to Patrick’s mouth. His neck already looks licked by fire. He is so fucking easy, so fucking hot. Patrick wants to climb him.

Instead, he ducks his head so he can brush his next words on Jonny’s knuckles while he leers up at him through his lashes: “You can use me.”

“What?” Jonny says again, making Patrick dizzy just by looking back, dark eyes turning three shades deeper.

“Up against the wall,” Patrick says, disentangling their fingers and baring his throat so he can hold Jonny’s palm against it, so he can watch Jonny’s focus narrow to include nothing past Patrick and his wild thrashing heart, thumping wilder with every breath. “I mean, if you can take me.”

Jonny growls, “Of course I can fucking take you,” and Patrick’s suddenly flat on his back, legs held wide by the breadth of Jonny’s strong thighs. The hand on his throat squeezes for a second, then climbs to tug on his curls, leaving Jonny’s biting mouth in its place.

“I don’t know, dude,” Patrick arches up, inviting more, already panting. “You sure?”

“You really want it?” Jonny asks. His rough monotone washes right over Patrick’s ear and drips in shivers across his whole body, making his toes curl, the hair on his nape stand. Through the layers of their underwear, Jonny grinds his dick into Patrick’s and says, “I’m gonna wreck you if you let me.”

“Yeah,” Patrick nods, hips bucking up, needing Jonny close and now and closer still.

“Yeah,” Jonny echos, sneaking an arm between Patrick and the mattress to grab a handful of his ass. “You’re gonna take me so deep, baby. Pass me the lube. Want you nice and sloppy.”

He sinks his teeth below the curve of Patrick’s jaw one last time before sitting back on his haunches to allow Patrick the space to contort his upper body toward the bedside table. While Patrick’s reaching for the lube, Jonny scoops him up by a thigh and uses the grip to untwists him at the waist, flipping him over to his belly. Hooks his fingers in the elastic of Patrick’s boxers and pulls them down just enough to access Patrick’s bare ass, pawing the cheeks apart to reveal his tender little hole. Patrick feels himself twitch at the whisper of cold air, the sudden exposure, the manhandling.

“Look at you,” Jonny says, circling the rim with a thumb, almost pushing in but not yet, waiting for Patrick to unfurl hungrily under his pad before denying him. “You’re still so fucking loose.”

“Jonny,” Patrick whines, writhing against the sheets, trying to spread his legs but finding them hampered by the clutch of his boxers.

Jonny holds him still, one hand pressing on the small of his back, the other biting into the meat of his ass to keep his hole on display. “Jonny,” Patrick whines again-- and Jonny spits. Patrick feels the slow dribble of saliva trickle inside and past his entrance, tease over his taint at a maddening pace. Jonny is looking, Patrick can feel that too. “Jonny, I’m going to die.”

“Okay, okay.” Jonny huffs in amusement. He bends down to bite Patrick’s cheeks hard enough to make him yelp, rubbing his stubble over the tender flesh before soothing the burn with a kiss. “That’s a bit melodramatic, though, don’t you think?” he asks, pulling away.

“No,” Patrick says, groping blindly for the lube and throwing the bottle over his shoulder, almost catching Jonny square in the face. It’s important Jonny doesn’t get sidetracked. Patrick got fucked good just a few hours ago, he doesn’t need a slow teasing prep. He’s ready for hard and fast and up against the wall, ready for Jonny to use him and fill him up again, for all that to happen right about now. Patrick’s dick jerks at the thought.

“Should I stop and call a doctor?” Jonny asks. Patrick finally hears the click of the lube being uncapped.

“Dude, I’ll kill you. I’m being serious,” he threatens, just to be sure.

Jonny squirts the lube directly onto his crack, without even bothering to warm it up. Patrick’s hole flutters – half from the cold, half from the anticipation. “Fucking obscene,” Jonny mutters, sweeping his thumb over it, catching the slick oozing toward Patrick’s balls and swiping it back up, feeding it inside and drawing out almost immediately. Patrick clenches hard around nothing. “You’re so fucking desperate,” Jonny says, thrusting back in abruptly with two thick fingers. The stretch leaves Patrick breathless for a few seconds, a little high-pitched mewling seeping from the back of his throat.

“Yeah,” he pants, pushing his overheated face into the pillow and his hips back into the intrusion, struggling against the constraint of his boxers as he tries to force his legs apart to suck Jonny in deeper. “And what about it?”

“I fucking love it,” Jonny mumbles, too absorbed by his ministration to help out while Patrick tries to wriggle free from his underwear. When he is halfway through, Jonny twists his fingers out and fucks them back in, hard, again and again, until all Patrick can do is squirm in place and take it. “Love it so much, baby,” Jonny says, slowing down. He bows forward to nuzzle the damp curls at the base of Patrick’s skull, trailing kisses over his nape, the side of his neck, just below his ear. “Love you so much,” he says, rolling his fingers inside Patrick and his bare dick over the back of his thigh. He must have shucked his briefs at some point.

“Come on, I’m ready,” Patrick takes the respite to kick his boxers all the way to his ankles and finally spread his legs, push up to his knees. Jonny lets him.

“Are you?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s chest and pulling him up until he’s sitting over Jonny’s thighs, Jonny’s hard dick nestled between his cheeks, its solid pressure almost making up for the sudden emptiness in his hole.

“Dude,” Patrick grumbles, both of Jonny’s hands wandering over his torso, one stopping to tweak his nipples, the other smoothing downward. “Dude I am, I’m ready. You have to.”

“I’m going to, I promise. Just let me look a little. You’re so fucking pretty.”

Patrick grinds his ass down on Jonny’s lap and whimpers, lust and frustration turning him non-verbal.

“Prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” Jonny hums, thumbing over the beads of pre-come blooming from the pink head of Patrick’s dick, before closing his fingers around the throbbing shaft. “Fits so nicely in my fist. You were made just for me, weren’t you, baby?”

Jonny runs his nose along the line of Patrick’s shoulder, breath warm and ticklish over Patrick’s skin, pebbling it up, and while that’s hot and all that, Patrick is already very horny, he’s ready for the main dish.

“Just for you, whatever, yes,” he says, tossing and twisting until he straddling Jonny face to face. “Right now, just for you.”

“Okay, okay, baby. Make me nice and slick so I can fuck you.”

While Patrick fumbles for the lube, Jonny reaches around to knead his ass, teasing his rim, dipping in the tip of each index, pulling apart just slightly-- enough to be distracting, to make Patrick crazier.

“I’m going to die. For real, I am,” Patrick whines, gliding his greased palm along the impressive length of Jonny’s erection, twisting his wrist a little on every upstroke. Jonny huffs something half-way between a laugh and a groan, before capturing Patrick’s mouth in a messy kiss.

“Such good hands, baby. Feels like heaven.”

“If you try coming--” Patrick’s threat splinters in a surprised exhale as Jonny stands, Patrick gathered in his arms.

“You’re so demanding,” he says into Patrick’s collar bone, nipping lightly at it. “Seems like you haven’t been fucked in a year.”

Patrick loops his arms around Jonny’s neck and his legs around Jonny’s hips, a swooping in his stomach at being carried, at feeling the strength of Jonny’s body shift and work, at knowing him steady and solid. In two long strides, Jonny has him up against the wall. Says, “Hold on tight,” and then he’s pinning Patrick in place one armed while he lines himself up to Patrick’s hole. Patrick gasps as the blunt head of Jonny’s dick breeches him, stops barely past his rim, right where the stretch is most unbearable – almost, almost, not nearly deep enough.

Jonny moves carefully, rearranging their position so that Patrick’s legs are hooked over his forearms, so that Patrick has no more leverage, so that all he can do is cling to Jonny’s shoulders and relinquish control, just hang on and let Jonny use his body.

“Gonna give it to you now, okay?” Jonny says. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Patrick feels hazy with lust, he tries for a nod but he’s not sure he manages. It doesn’t matter, because Jonny understands, spears him open inch by inch, unrelenting and so impossibly big, so fucking deep, for a moment Patrick forgets how to breathe.

Once he’s seated in to the root, Jonny waits, rolling his hips slowly. “Tell me when.”

Patrick cards his fingers through Jonny’s hair to ground himself. It’s damp with sweat and it’s getting so long. He can get a nice grip. “Now,” he gulps, leaning down to flick is tongue over Jonny’s lips, “Fuck, now.”

Jonny rocks shallowly forward for a couple of times and Patrick thrashes about for more, impatient and ineffective. “Come on. Come on, Jonny, please.”

“I’m working on it. Just give me--” Jonny pumps his hips harder and harder until he settles into a rhythm that has Patrick’s back shoved higher against the wall with every thrust and Patrick’s hands scrambling back to Jonny’s shoulders for purchase.

It’s not a position that allows much finesse, but Jonny still manages to graze Patrick’s prostate often enough that Patrick’s stomach glistens with a steady stream of pre-come. His dick, flushed and heavy, bounces in time with Jonny’s pounding. It’s torture. Patrick is dying to touch it, but he’s afraid of letting go. Little choked off keens fall from his lips, rise in volume and desperation with each new ragged breath he sucks.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jonny grits out. His biceps flex as he hauls Patrick almost all the way off his dick, then lets him sink, yanked back onto it by all the weight of his body. “Shit. Don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“Then make me, fuck--” Patrick begs and orders, voice all wrecked. “Make me come.”

Jonny’s grip on Patrick’s thighs tightens, fingers digging into the soft flesh-- they’re going to leave matching crowns of moon-shaped bruises. Already Patrick can’t wait for Jonny to try and trace back his handprint the next time they fuck, press down on it until Patrick squirms. “Touch yourself. Come on, Peeks, I got you.”

Patrick slides a hand between their bodies and wraps it around his dick. The stimulation is enough to tip him over the edge in a couple of strokes. His whole body shakes and clenches as pleasure turns the word around him bright and meaningless.

Jonny speaks, a curse maybe, and slams into Patrick as deep as he can again, again, one last time, coming in hot spurts inside him, panting against the hollow of his throat.

*

Later, after Jonny has carried Patrick back to the bed, run a warm towel across his spent body and finally collapsed next to him, Patrick pokes him out of his daze and says, “I was thinking. Still hard no for the dog but like. I’d consider a baby.”


End file.
